


Watch as I dive in

by nanasekei



Series: Happy Steve Bingo Fills [7]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, post-untitled Avengers 4 movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 06:56:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16424546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanasekei/pseuds/nanasekei
Summary: “Looking at you now, no one would guess the plan worked,” Tony says, but his voice is gentle and fond, caressing Steve’s skin just like his touch.-After the victory over Thanos, Steve doesn't know what to do next. Tony does.





	Watch as I dive in

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in a nebulous "post-Avengers 4 where they've already undone the snap and everyone is alive" future. For my "In Front of a Fireplace" square on the Happy Steve Bingo.
> 
> As always, thanks to Sheron for the awesome beta <3

As the cold wind knocks on the window, it hits Steve: _it’s over._

He’s sitting on the floor of one of the many rooms of what turned into somewhat of an HQ, in the past few months. Through the window, he can see the view of Wakanda’s mountains, their snowy peaks looking equally beautiful and threatening. Steve leans his back against the couch, watching the fireplace in front of him. The rug he’s sitting on is thick and soft. Only the fire lights the room. The flames seem to dance, casting an orange glow over the surprisingly comfortable synthetic bear skin rug.

_It’s finally over._

The words feel unreal on his head, too distant and abstract for him to fully feel their impact. The last hours have been such a blur, as he helped getting everyone settled at the Jabari palace, checking on the news from all over the world, and throwing constant nervous glances in Sam and Bucky’s direction to make sure they were real.

_We won._

Steve remembers the last time those words resonated in his head – he’ll never forget, the feeling of waking up in a new world to fight a new war about the same thing he had died trying to prevent. But back then, the words had felt alive on his lips – they had left his tongue with a pleasant taste, like a miracle, a tingle of hope and joy he hadn’t felt since opening his eyes at the SHIELD facility.

(Back then there was a pair of warm brown eyes staring at him, gazing through him with the brightness of a thousand stars.)

Steve sighs, running his hand over his hair. It’s silly, to miss something like this. Tony is _here_ , after all. He came back to the palace with everyone else, panting and tired from the fight, needing to make repairs on his suit, but very much alive and safe.

He’s just… busy.

Steve shifts, the cold creeping onto his shoulders. He crosses his arms, trying to give himself some warmth.

The room _is_ warm, he knows it is, because even though the Jabari’s choice to have a fireplace in their palace was more of an aesthetic decision than anything (the heating system of the place is more advanced than anything Steve’s ever seen), it’s still an actual fire, and there’s no real reason for Steve to be cold.

They _won_. People – people are _back_ , the universe is rebuilt. Hours prior, Steve was watching Wanda and Vision embrace, Rocket weeping happily in Groot’s arms, Nebula wrapping a very shocked Gamora into a hug. It’s unbelievable, what they won. It had seemed impossible.

(During the first few weeks, after Tony got back to Earth, Steve _did_ think it was impossible. Even Tony wasn’t thinking straight, just seeming utterly destroyed in spirit while talking about having to figure out Strange’s plan. When he came to Steve and said he thought they had to work together for it to work, Steve almost told him it didn’t matter anymore.

If he’s completely honest, the only reason he accepted it, at first, was because he couldn’t stand the thought of being away from Tony again.)

Steve takes a deep breath. He’s happy, of course he is. All these people, these lives. The Avengers – as a  _team_ \- saved them. Even if they had to fail first, in the end, they won.

Right now, though, it’s as if the weight of the emotional turmoil of the past months falls on Steve’s shoulders all at once. The guilt, the sleepless nights, the nightmares in the few hours he managed to sleep at all. The terrible feeling of waiting, of searching for something that seemed impossible. The gems, the gauntlet, Thanos. Everything crashes down at once, and Steve feels unable to stand up.

He’s exhausted.

Besides, there are other things to worry about, he thinks, curling up on himself, back pressed against the couch, watching the fire. Over the last months, they all had a goal to strive towards together. Wakanda was the perfect place to execute their plan, with all the technology and isolation they could ever need. Now, though, they need to plan what to do next. They need practical steps to help the world welcome back millions of people. Steve, specifically, needs to think about Ross, about the still untouched Accords, about Bucky. With half the universe gone, no one in their right mind would have thought to look for fugitives. Now, though, the situation could change.

Steve needs to figure out where they go from here – him and everyone who put their trust in him – and he needs to figure it out soon, so he shouldn’t be sitting down, not right now…

“There you are,” a familiar voice comes from the doorway, making Steve’s heart tighten painfully in his chest. He tries to keep staring at the fire, but it’s impossible to not look at Tony as he walks inside, making his way to the couch.

Tony is wearing sweatpants and a hoodie – a uniform for him, lately. Like everyone else Steve has seen today, he looks tired – he has dark circles under those brown bright eyes , evidence of all the nights he sat in silence next to Steve in the palace’s main hall or on the bridge of Rocket’s ship.

(The obvious reasons for their mutual insomnia floated unspoken between them, and for so many nights, nothing happened. Steve just sat there unable to sleep, feeling Tony’s gaze slide over him, clenching his hands into fists at his sides, wanting to find something to say and terrified it might push Tony away. Tony was all about noise, always had been, but if the only thing he could give Steve was his silence, Steve would take it. He wouldn’t ask for anything else.)

“Should’ve known you’d be here.” Tony gestures towards the gloomy, fire-lit room around them. “Life of the party as always, huh?”

“Do you need me for something?” Steve asks, and Tony’s expression seems to waver for a moment.

“Kind of,” he says, in a softer voice that throws Steve completely off balance. Then he takes a sharp breath and shakes his head with a slight smile. “Nothing that you’re thinking about, though.”

Steve blinks confusedly, about to ask another question when Tony steps forward, hands in his hoodie’s pockets.

“So,” Tony starts, shifting on his feet. He looks strangely anxious, but there’s an energy radiating off him, bright like sunlight. “Any particular reason you’ve decided it was moping time?”

Steve isn’t sure what to say. He shrugs.

“Wanted to think a little.”

Tony takes another step in his direction. “Brave of you.”

Steve lets out a weak smile, despite himself. Tony’s presence works better than the fire ever could, already warming Steve up with his voice; his gaze; the way his hands keep twitching inside his pockets, unresting.

(While they were searching for Thanos, he often basked in the warmth of Tony’s presence, unable to stay away from him too long. It filled him with guilt, to think of the constant relief and occasional happiness that came just from having Tony by his side, when he had no right to feel such things, in the situation they were in.

They never talked, on those shared sleepless nights. But sometimes they touched.)

There’s a moment of silence, a stretch of time where the only thing Steve is conscious of is Tony, standing right there. He had been so sure he wouldn’t get to see Tony today at all – besides catching up with Peter, Tony had been busy speaking with Pepper, disappearing for hours in long, private video calls.

(It started simple. Steve would be sitting down at the hub of what had become Rocket’s ship, and Tony would come inside with fast steps, breath uneven, and grip his shoulder.

“Sorry,” Tony would say, but there would be no regret, just that desperate, pained expression Steve had gotten too used to see on Tony’s face by then. “I just… Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Steve would say, because it was always okay, for Tony to touch him. He could touch Steve in any way he wanted.

Tony would sit next to him, hand still on his shoulder, and after a while his whole body would move closer, arms coming around Steve’s waist, head on his chest. Tony would be shaking, and Steve would finally react, pull him closer, hold him as long as Tony needed.

With his heart in his throat and Tony in his arms, Steve would remind himself it didn’t mean anything. Tony just needed someone, anyone, and well. Hadn’t Steve promised he’d be there if Tony needed him?)

It wasn’t really a surprise, that Tony wanted to talk to her. Steve doesn’t resent him for it. It’s only natural, for Tony to start getting back to his normal life. Steve knows very well he has long lost the right to be a part of it.

“I’m surprised you’re taking a break at all,” Tony says. His eyes are thoughtful, as he looks at Steve, lips pressed together. “You haven’t stopped to breathe all day long.”

“Neither have you.”

The corner of Tony’s mouth twists upwards. “True,” he says, and there is something on his voice, something soft and pulsing and tense, that makes Steve’s chest tighten. Part of him wants to ask Tony to leave, and another part wants to beg him to stay. He knows better than to give in to either of the urges. “Can I sit next to you?”

Tony’s voice seems to echo through the room for way longer than it should, the words buzzing in Steve’s ears as he fights to keep himself together. “Yeah,” he grunts.

When Tony sits, his back against the couch, Steve feels a knot in his throat. There’s a sharp cold in his chest at the thought that this is the closest he’ll ever get to be with Tony again.

(Tony was too tired to hate him then, Steve reminded himself. Too hurt. He’d cling to Steve like a lifeline, grabbing his hand suddenly, pressing his face to Steve’s chest as if he could bury himself there. Steve had imagined holding Tony before, but never like that. On his fantasies, Tony was smiling, happy to be in his arms. Steve had dreamed of holding Tony fully, not his pieces.

Steve would take the pieces, though. It was already more than he deserved.)

They stay there for a moment, and Steve forces himself to stare at the fire, feeling Tony’s gaze.

“Your head is in a place I can’t even imagine right now, isn’t it? ” Tony breaks the silence, startling Steve. He looks at him, and Tony’s hands are on his lap, clutching each other. “That seems to be the pattern, for you and I,” Tony says, with a sad smile Steve doesn’t understand. Then, Tony opens his mouth and closes it again.

“Can I touch you?” He finally breathes, and the question makes Steve’s pulse rush.

“Yes,” Steve says, entirely too fast, although he knows he shouldn’t, shouldn’t take advantage of Tony’s generosity now, when there’s no clear excuse to do it.

Tony smiles. Steve expects him to touch his shoulder or arm, but, to his surprise, Tony’s hand goes straight to his face, knuckles gently stroking Steve’s cheek.

“Looking at you now, no one would guess the plan worked,” Tony says, but his voice is gentle and fond, caressing Steve’s skin just like his touch.

“I’m happy,” Steve croaks, voice strangled and tense. The flames of the fire are reflected in Tony’s eyes, and his gaze is warm and yet distant, as if he’s in deep thought about something Steve can’t even imagine. “There’s just… Things I still need to think about.”

“Of course,” Tony says, brushing a few locks of hair off Steve’s forehead. “Mind if I add to the pile?”

Steve frowns, trying not to be distracted by Tony’s light, gentle fingers. “What is it?”

Tony bites his lower lip. “You think I came here just to scold you for brooding?”

Steve doesn’t say anything. He isn’t sure of what Tony could need to talk about, right now. Of course, there’s a million practical things they need to discuss, but not like this, with Tony’s hand touching his face and his body so close.  
  
“…You do. Okay.” Tony chuckles, but his eyes are nervous, looking at Steve as if he’s not sure of how to proceed. “Listen– - I – Look, I’m, I’m going to hug you, okay?”

Steve blinks. Tony keeps staring at him, expectantly, and Steve nods slowly, incredibly aware of every single one of Tony’s movements as he comes closer and lays his arm on Steve’s shoulders.

Steve’s body feels limp, immediately pliant at Tony’s touch, and he lets himself be led. Tony spreads his legs and pulls Steve between them, arms wrapped around Steve’s waist. The position makes no sense, with Steve’s height, but Tony doesn’t seem to care, and Steve’s body doesn’t care either, curling up to make himself smaller. He rests his head on Tony’s shoulder, face feeling the soft fabric of his hoodie, and it smells like Tony, and it’s too warm and wonderful and Steve blinks too fast, feels his eyes burning.

(He had dreamed of holding Tony many times, through the years. He never dreamed of Tony holding him. He never allowed himself to.)

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Tony whispers softly, and it does. It feels good and impossible, too much to be true.

“You,” Steve tries to say, though his voice betrays his state. “You don’t have to do this.”

“No,” Tony agrees. “But I want to.” His hand goes to Steve’s hair again, ruffling it. “That’s, that’s what I came here for, actually. I knew you’d be in your head about something – Jesus, I can almost see the gears in your brain moving, it’s exhausting to even think about. And I… I wanted to be with you, which – oh, hey, you know what? That’s, hm, I guess, that’s my entire point, actually.”

Steve blinks, lifting his head off Tony’s shoulder. “What?”

Tony’s grinning now, weak and tired, beautiful under the fire’s light. “I had a whole speech prepared, but let’s be real, winging it is way more my style, and at the end of the day, I mean, that’s, that’s all it comes down to.” He presses his lips together, eyes with a spark that makes Steve feel breathless. “I wanted to be with you. I want to be with you. Indefinitely, or, well, as long as you want me to. I don’t care. I want to be with you and that’s it.”

The world seems to spin around them, everything else disappearing, and there’s only Tony, his eyes and his voice and his words.

“Don’t say that,” Steve says, and it sounds like a plea, the fear on his chest growing stronger than the hope.

“Why not?” Tony asks, and for a moment he seems almost challenging Steve, like wanting to be with Steve is something incredibly simple, one of those things that only seems impossible until Tony Stark decides to do it. He swallows, staring at Steve with those brown eyes that seem to burn more than the actual fire would. “I’m not talking out of my ass, you know. I’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“You spent the day talking with Pepper,” Steve points out, looking away. It’s hard, to argue with Tony when he’s so close and touchable, but Steve knows he needs to. If he can be the one to make Tony come to his senses, maybe it’ll hurt less when he inevitably does.

“I was helping her settle back in.” Tony’s voice sounds almost confused, and then his body startles. “Oh, God. You think… Oh, God.” His hand comes to Steve’s jaw, his thumb caressing his beard. “Pep and I aren’t together, Steve. It… It seemed like a good idea, once, but, as time went by, we both figured out it wouldn’t work. We tried really hard to make it work, to not let it come to that, but in the end, there was no way around it.”

Steve can’t breathe. His enhanced lungs feel useless on his chest, his heart beating impatiently, gaining steam against his will.

“Look at me,” Tony asks gently, lifting Steve’s chin. Steve complies, and Tony’s smile is half sad, half fond. “Pep knew. She knew before I did. I’m a genius with a great capacity for denial,” he grins. “But I’m not delusional anymore. I want to be with you.”

“You hate me,” Steve blurts. Tony’s eyes widen.

“I could never hate you.” He takes his other hand to Steve’s jaw, cupping his face. His eyes are intense, a corner of his lips twisting upwards. “God knows I’ve tried. I _was_ furious with you, yeah, and, definitely, add that to the ever-growing list of things we need to talk about, but, honestly? I watched half the universe fade before my eyes.” His voice falters a little. “I wanted to go, too. I… I sat there on Titan for almost an hour waiting to see if by a miracle it took me.”

Steve’s hand reaches forward of its own volition, clutching the hem of Tony’s hoodie. Tony smiles before continuing.

“It didn’t, though. And I thought: Why? What do I have left? And I came back and… You were there,” his hand strokes Steve’s cheek, and Steve has never been touched like this, as if he‘s something precious. “And I never… I never thought I’d have you again -- I never thought I had you at all, period – but you were there, and I just… I would never have made it without you. And I don’t want to do anything without you, ever again.” His voice is shaking now, eyes bright probably matching Steve’s. “That sounds a little creepy, but you get my gist.”

“Tony,” Steve says, unable to think, to look away, to even breathe properly. “I’m still a fugitive. There’s the Accords, and Ross, and everything. Nothing has changed. We…”

“ _Everything_ has changed.” Tony interrupts, full of conviction. “We’ll deal with Ross, with the Accords. We’ll work it out. We will find a way.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“If we can't find a way, we’ll run, then,” Tony leans closer, his eyes crinkling when he grins. “I’d rather search for a compromise first, but if that’s not on the table, you can sign me up on your fugitive crew.”

Steve swallows. “Tony, that’s not – you _believe_ in the Accords. I can’t… We’d just end up fighting.”

Tony shrugs. “So? We’ll fight, then. We’ll yell at each other for hours at crappy motels on the side of the road while wearing baseball caps and sunglasses that barely cover our faces. Romanoff and Barton will make bets on which one of us murders the other first. It’s gonna be great.”

Steve can’t help a weak smile, shaking his head. “You’re not making any sense.”

“I’m making _complete_ sense,” Tony counters, voice firm in a way Steve hasn’t heard in a long time. “Look, it goes against every instinct I have to say this, but I don’t know what will happen, okay? With the U.N. and Ross and whatever. What I do know is that, whatever happens, from now on, I want us to be on the same team. I want to be with you, and I – I’ve wasted so much time already.” He swallows, and Steve’s hand curls on his hoodie tighter. “Back then, when we were fighting, I tried to talk you into signing saying we needed you. Which was true, but at the end of the day, I watched the world end, and what it made me realize is that, more than anything, _I_ need you. And, and, not trying to point any fingers, but, well, I do have it on text that-“

“If you ever need me, I’ll be there,” Steve says. It feels like a million years ago, when he was trying to pour out a hurricane of feelings on a piece of paper, finally deciding on a simple promise instead. Back then, the distance between them had felt insurmountable, those feelings buried under the weight of their mistakes. Now, though, with Tony right there, his touch all around Steve, it seems so small – not easy (nothing between them will ever be easy, Steve thinks, which doesn’t make him want it any less), but _meaningless_ , powerless before the rush Steve feels in his chest staring into Tony’s eyes.

“Yeah. So, guess you’re stuck with me, buddy,” Tony breathes, and there’s a glimpse of doubt on his face, that he masks with a lighter voice. “Unless – unless you don’t want me, in which case, we can archive everything I’ve said so far as a Strange-induced magic delirium-“

“I can’t remember a time where I didn’t want you,” Steve blurts, and it’s a wonder, the way the doubt on Tony’s face melts into happiness, into a bright grin that makes Steve’s heart flutter.

“I suppose that settles it, then,” Tony says. His smile is so beautiful, and he’s so close, so warm and touchable and _there_ , and-

(And Steve had thought of kissing Tony, many times, in those moments where Tony came to him for a shred of comfort. He wanted to kiss Tony’s lips, his nose, his wrinkles. He wanted to kiss Tony’s pain away, but he knew he couldn’t do that – and he knew it’d only hurt Tony more, to be forced to handle Steve’s feelings. Steve swallowed that thought, then, storing it away with dreams and fantasies, in some corner of his mind where he could still believe in the impossible.)

-and Tony kisses him and Steve also melts, turning into a puddle on Tony’s arms, helpless at the heat of his mouth. It’s chaste, soft, and Steve never thought it’d be like that, the salty taste of his tears swallowed by Tony’s lips, the feel of Tony’s body shaking while his arms tighten around Steve’s waist. It’s impossible and real, right now, and Steve wants to stay like this, wants it more than he ever wanted anything.

Steve’s head is spinning when they pull apart, and his body feels boneless against Tony’s, the exhaustion from before making him wanting to close his eyes. “We should rest,” he says.

“Getting out of our comfort zones already, I see .” Tony nods quickly, and Steve grins, leaning forward to kiss him again – because he can, he can do this, Tony _wants_ him to do this. The thought is wonderful enough to make him press another kiss, and another and another, and Tony _giggles_ against his mouth as he lays down on the rug, pulling Steve down to curl up on top of him, letting Steve lay his head on his chest.

“Okay, big boy,” Tony says, pressing kisses on top of Steve’s head, skimming his hands soothingly over Steve’s back. “Napping now, figuring out the rest of our lives later.”

“You’ve done that already,” Steve whispers. The beat of Tony’s heart is like a lullaby, making Steve’s eyes feel heavy, but he can’t resist lifting his head a little and kissing Tony’s jaw. He’d kiss Tony all over if he could, and – and _he can_. Later. “We stay together. The rest is details.”

“I’m really a genius,” Tony says, voice slightly choked up as Steve covers his jaw with light kisses.

( _I love you_ , Steve would think, back then, with Tony’s body shaking in his arms, holding him as tight as he could without hurting him. The words would curl around his heart, suffocating, buried too deep in his chest to ever come out.)

“I love you,” Steve says now, with Tony’s arms around him. The words float above and envelop them both, strong and certain, guiding lights for this new world that’s now theirs.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Comments and kudos make me really happy. If you want to, you can [reblog the post](http://elcorhamletlive.tumblr.com/post/179487643825/watch-as-i-dive-in-nanasekei-marvel-cinematic) on tumblr.
> 
> I also want to say that I'm participating on Marvel Trumps Hate, a randomly event to raise money for charity. I'm offering three different fics. The event ends in 12 hours, so if you enjoy my writing, want me to write something for you and also give to a good cause, you can check out my auction page [here](https://mthofferings.tumblr.com/tagged/elcorhamletlive).


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